The Princess and the Peasant
by Barneswald
Summary: One-shot Romanrogers AU: Princess Natasha escapes her arranged marriage and finds shelter with a peasant, Steven Rogers. WARNING: This is not a complete fic, nor is it meant to be. It is only "snippets" of the full story, so to speak.


"Princess Natasha, the Redd royal family has welcomed you so eagerly into our fold! How could you possibly turn down an invitation like that?"

Natasha sighed, glaring at the thin-faced woman in the reflection of her mirror. "I'm not interested in Prince Alexander's offer of marriage, thank you," she said in her most cordial tone. The lady pursed her lips, clearly disapproving of the rebellious princess. "And I'd thank you to leave my private chambers."

"Just remember, this is your only chance to escape from your crumbling little kingdom," the woman hissed through her teeth, every pretense of friendliness gone. "Your own kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy and corruption, and we offer a way out."

"And yet, somehow, I feel that marrying into a family just as corrupt and vile will somehow not help the suffering peasants of my kingdom!" Natasha snapped… but only to herself. Outwardly, she nodded politely. Best not to reveal her true plan of escape. Keeping her back straight and her face calm, Natasha watched the mirror as the woman disappeared. She sighed as the door shut, letting her shoulders slump. Inwardly, she cursed the corset she'd been forced to wear to the royal ball. She smoothed her hands over the luxurious gold and scarlet material, wondering just how much blood had been spilled and how much gold had exchanged hands in order for her father to negotiate this marriage with the king of Hydra. She rose to her feet, inhaling deeply to calm her nerves.

She refused to marry that despicable man.

Before she could change her mind, Natasha grabbed up a piece of parchment, ink dripping from the quill as she paused to consider her words. She knew her tiny network of spies could be trusted, and now it was time to utilize them, as well as her link to the loyal subjects ready to rise against the injustice in both her own kingdom and Hydra's.

Looking for shelter,

The Black Widow.

—

"I'm not stupid."

Sam Wilson sighed, clapping his hand onto Steven's shoulder. "You know her. You've met her before. We can trust her… all of us."

"And she'd really want to live in a peasant's hovel with three outlaws?" James scoffed in the background, somehow managing to stack firewood even with his one good hand. "Besides, how would she trust me? I used to be a spy for Hydra, and now she's trying to raise a rebellion against her fiancee!"

"Sam's right, James," Steven sighed, rubbing his forehead. "And I have met her. She's… strange. Definitely a princess, but not a snob. Dangerous, is what I'd call her."

"I'd really like to come out of this upcoming war with my other arm still intact," James muttered under his breath.

"Tell the network we'll accept the Black Widow," Steven interjected, turning back to his friend.

"Such an ominous name, for someone who hasn't even killed her future husband yet," Sam mumbled as he jumped back onto his horse.

"Here's hoping we don't get killed in the process," James mumbled.

—-

"Never lived in a peasant's home before, I take it?"

Natasha turned sharply to Steven, her bearing still regal even though her hair was tangled and dirty, and her face streaked with mud. "I've survived my fair share of hardships," she replied quietly. "And I thank you for offering me this shelter."

Steven gulped, suddenly pinned under her piercing gaze. Was every princess like this? "No problem," he replied, somewhat stupidly.

"I am very well aware of the fact that it is a problem," Natasha replied, arching an eyebrow coldly. "You'll have to pass me off as either your sister or your wife."

"Well, seeing as you're engaged…." Steven trailed off awkwardly.

"Sister it is."

—-

"No! Natasha! They'll find you in here!" Steven eased the barn door shut before racing to her side, barely able to see her figure wrapped in the dark cloak as she bustled around the horse. Outside he could hear the Hydra guards shouting angrily, and the voices of Sam and James frantically trying to dissuade them. He didn't have long before Natasha would be discovered.

"No they won't," she hissed. "I'm going to run away!" She whirled to face him, and even through her facade, he could see the fear simmering beneath.

"I'll keep them off your trail," he whispered fiercely. He would rather die than see her forced back into Prince Alexander's arms.

Suddenly she pulled him down, her lips brushing against his briefly. An electric thrill seemed to course through him, and he stared down at her in astonishment. "What was that?!" he hissed softly. "Get out of here!"

She sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards into what he recognized as her sad smile. "No, Steven. I'm keeping them off your trail."

Something hit his head hard, and as he fell to the ground, the world began to disappear into black. As if in the distance, he heard the barn doors slam open, and Natasha yell over their enraged shouts. "This man tried to take me to you! But I won't be taken! You will never find me! I will fight until my dying-" Suddenly she cried out in pain, and he barely was able to open his eyes enough to see her fall next to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as the world finally went dark.


End file.
